If It Kills Me
by Mrs.FFWriter
Summary: SANSAN Song-Fic (Insprired by If It Kills Me, by Jason Mraz. Sansa has accepted her feelings for Sandor and offers him a place at her side in Wintrefell. Why? Cause I will always ship the, LOL. Rated M, in case of possible future chapters.


SONG-FIC # 1 – A Song of Ice and Fire (Game of Thrones) – Sandor / Sansa

 _Inspired by Jason Mraz's_

 **If It Kills Me**

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The Little Bird seemed to have worked her feathers up quite a bit, from where he stood. She'd been all but running around the Winterfell grounds all morning, looking for this one or that and ordering people about. Anyone would have thought she was planning her own nuptial ceremony, the way she was carrying on, instead of her brother's. Yet, the details she put into everything she did and her polite way of dealing with her people, had all the servants willing and eager to follow her requests. Jon Snow might very well be the King in the North, but the Little Bird ran every detail of the household better than any other lady he'd ever seen. For, in nearly a year since he'd arrived in Winterfell and bent the knee to the Wolf King, he'd never so much as heard a whisper of any ill-will towards Sansa… Not that he would allow anyone to get away with that, anyhow.

A short time after his arrival, he'd been appointed her personal guard … thus, he followed her wherever she went. When Snow calling on him to inform him of his charge, Sandor could detect the apprehension on his face. Yet, as his eyes travelled to his Little Bird, she didn't show the discomfort he expected to find. Instead, he'd been surprised to see her smiling brightly at him, seeming very pleased by her brother-come-cousin's assignment for him. He was so sure she hated him, or at least feared him, so he couldn't understand why she smiled at him that way. Still, he wasted little time in trying to figure it, and chalked it up to her ever-present politeness.

The weeks following his arrival and almost instantly appointed position, the Little Bird had arranged a bedroom for him, only a few doors from her own. He had expected to small room in the servants' quarters of course, but Snow told him he should never be too far from Sansa. Finding it hard to argue that logic, knowing the Starks were in process of rebuilding their home and bridging old ties and what not, Sandor agreed. Eventually, he also realized that there was a chamber-maid assigned to his bedroom, and he didn't know what to make of it. He'd never had someone looking out for anything for him, so he often dismissed her. Sandor assumed the Wolf King had probably tasked her with spying on him which he found no fault in, but didn't like either way. During one of those dismissals, his Little Bird happened upon them right outside his door.

"Go on and get, Girl. I have no need of you or your spying." Sandor grunted at his maid, who looked up at him in fear but also frustration.

"What? But, Sir, I have …" She tried to say to him, but as he was about to correct her in his usual manner, he heard a voice do it for him.

"He's no Sir." His Little Bird said, causing his eyes to find her standing outside her own door, just a few feet away.

Sandor was not used to being startled, but she'd caught him unawares at that moment, and so he just stared at her. She stared right back at him for several seconds until she realized he wasn't going to speak, so she smirked.

"Isn't that right, Mr. Clegane?" She asked, daring him to respond to her.

She'd taken to calling him that since his arrival, and made sure the rest of the household did the same. He'd heard her correct countless people that referred to him as _The Hound_ , her cousin the Wolf King, included. While Sandor might never admit it, he appreciated it and internally marveled at her ability to understand his distaste for that old name he used to carry. For him, it was because of the dark memories he tried to leave behind, that moniker brought him, and he wondered if it was the same for her.

"That's the right of it, My Lady." He answered her, not vocalizing or giving any outward indication of how her smirk and new-found familiarity with him made him feel.

At his words, he noticed her smirk falter a bit, or maybe it was a small change in her eyes. However, before he could think on it too much, she smiled and turned to the maid once more.

"What seems to be the trouble, Madeline?" The Little Bird asked.

"He won't let me in to collect the linens this morning. If I don't get them washed today, it will throw off my weekly schedule, My Lady." The pesky maid whined to his Little Bird.

"I see…" The Little Bird replied to the maid, shut her eyes for a moment, then turned those blue orbs on him as she took several steps in his direction.

"I planned to visit the Godswood before breaking my fast this morning." She sighed almost dramatically to herself, then continued. "I can assure you that Madeline is no spy, as I run a very different household than Kings Landing. However, if you don't want her in your bed chambers, I suppose I can collect your linens this morning instead of going to the Godswood. What do you say, Sandor … visit the Godswood with me or watch me collect your linens?" She asked with a smirk, stunning him in more ways than one.

Not only had his Little Bird corrected his assumption of the maid, drawing a clear line differentiating herself from the Lannister Queen Bitch – not he ever needed her to. But then, she brazenly offered to collect his linens from his bed herself. Then, to top it all off, she'd called him by his proper name for the first time. There was no denying she'd rendered him speechless, and she seemed to silently gloat over her success. She remined quiet as she awaited his reply, but he could see that she knew she had him. Allowing her the win, sighed, and slightly bowed his head to her.

"To the Godswood it is then ... After you, My Lady." He said, indicating that Sansa should walk ahead of him, but his Little Bird was filled with surprises that morning. Rather than walk in front of him, she stood beside him.

"Don't you get tired of just following behind me all the time, Sandor? It sure does get lonely walking on my own, especially knowing you're just a few steps behind me. I figure this way, we can chat while we walk." She told him, taking a step forward and waiting for him to do the same.

From then on, Sansa always made sure to walk beside him. He was used to her chirping, as well as her pleasant smiles, and the way she greeted everyone as they walked past. It became so routine, that the people that once shied away from him, eventually began including him in their daily greetings. It took some time, but at her urging, Sandor eventually stopped ignoring or grunting at people. He'd never be able to pinpoint when it all changed for him in Winterfell, when people stopped seeing him as just the heavily scarred man, but he finally began to feel worthy of respect - almost like the noble man he'd been born to be and left behind a lifetime before – but he knew he owed it all to his Little Bird.

When the Dragon Queen made her way to Westeros, conquering all the southern kingdoms, defeated Cersei and the abominable creature that was once his brother, she eventually turned her eyes northward. Sandor reluctantly agreed to call it fate like the Little Bird was always going on about, when her younger brother Brand Stark arrived in Winterfell, only days before the Dragon Queen. His arrival brought immeasurable happiness to his Little Bird, as well as some upheaval about who the rightful heir to Winterfell should be. The Boy Wolf relinquished the title and responsibility, proclaiming Snow the rightful King. He explained he'd become a magical raven seer that couldn't be ruler of the North. With that, he also revealed the news of Snow's real parentage. He claimed that Jon Snow was the true heir to the seven kingdoms, but told everyone that Daenerys would agree to peace, by reigning over the southern kingdoms while Jon ruled in the north, after she learned they were family.

Days later, just as the boy had said, so it all happened. With the added surprise that, the little She-Wolf had arrived that day beside the Dragon Queen, as her guard since before making their way back to Westeros. Not only was the Wolf King incredibly keen on seeing little but apparently deadly Arya Stark again, but his Little Bird finally found peace, knowing her only sister was alive and well; not to mention more than capable of taking care of herself. The Dragon Queen released Arya of her duties, allowing her to stay in Winterfell if she so desired. While Arya agreed to being released, she claimed there was still much traveling she wanted to do.

The next months would see his Little Bird preparing for the boy wolf's wedding to his Meera. Just as day-by-day, he and Sansa had forged a solid friendship. While he was her assigned guard, spending time with her was already so much more than an assignment for him. Several nights before the Boy Wolf's weeding, Snow met with him to inform Sandor that he'd agreed to host several visiting Lords for the wedding, so they could begin courting his Little Bird. Snow promised he wouldn't tie her into any obligations of his volition, but allow her the right to choose her future husband. Regardless, the idea of sniveling little lords parading around, vying for her time and affections, was enough to sour his mood the rest of the night.

Although he'd given up drinking before stepping foot in Winterfell, that night, he took two jugs of ale into his rooms and nearly finished them off. He could do nothing to stop the coming events, and he knew he'd best figure out a way to let his Little Bird go. He was sure that no future husband would have need of him, and she'd leave him behind. _Future husband!_ That thought alone made him sick. He had an almost long-forgotten urge to cut someone down. Hells, he wanted to cut down any man that dared to get too close to his Little Bird, but he had to remind himself that she could never be his, despite his overwhelming feelings for her.

Aside from their friendship, he knew he could never aspire to more from her. In his drunken state, he thought it best to begin drawing the lines of separation as soon as possible. After all, she was a Lady and as such, he had to set boundaries. No more calling her his Little Bird, or parading around side by side. He was to remain her guard and nothing more. Soon after developing was he was sure was a perfect plan, he passed out with a bitter feeling in his gut; one that he felt was from more than just the alcohol.

"Clegane, wake up already!" He heard yelled from the other side of his bed chamber door, then there was the loud banging.

His head felt heavy and his mouth tasted foul in a way that it hadn't in so long. He remembered the night before and all he drank. Then, he remembered why.

"Hold on to your skirts, Girl. I'll be out in a moment." He called out to the made, and instantly regretting his own volume, then after putting on some clean clothes, he opened the door to find a very frustrated looking Madeline standing outside of it.

"Lady Sansa wants to visit the Godswood this morning, and she's been waiting for you!" Madeline told him and tried to push past him into his room.

"Where do you think you're going?" He stopped her by blocking her path.

"Not this again! Why must you be the only person in all of Westeros to annoy me? You're constantly causing delays in my chores, Clegane. Today is linen day, as it is at the end of every week. Now, move, won't you?" Madeline almost growled at him, to which he chuckled and let her pass.

He realized the girl had long overcome her fear of him but he still enjoyed antagonizing her whenever he could. Just as he was going to walk towards his Little Bird's door, he realized she was already standing outside of it, and watching him with a pensive look on her face. His instincts made him want to ask what she was thinking on so hard, but he quickly remembered his resolve from the night before.

"Good morning, Sandor." She told him, genuinely smiling as he approached.

"Good morning … My Lady. Shall we?" He asked and held his arm out, indicating she should walk ahead of him.

She paused for a moment at his actions and looked around, seemingly wondering why he'd done that. She took several seconds trying to assess the situation before moving. He forced himself to remain motionless, waiting for her to take the lead, arm still indicating she should go first. Suddenly, rather than follow his clear instruction and walk in front of him, she placed her delicate hand upon his forearm. He looked at her questioning, but she looked up at him with one of her brightest smiles. It was the kind that almost always made something inside him ache. He was about to ask what she was doing, but she spoke.

"Jon as agreed to host a few norther lords to court me. He hopes that I'll choose one." She told him, but he already knew that, so all his attention was on the feel of her hand on his arm.

When he fell in step with her, she nudged his arm, which he was still holding up at a weird angle from his body. She moved it so it rested on his abdomen, like a Lord gentleman would. Suddenly, just as he thought she'd finally release him, she hooked her hand in the crook of his elbow. She managed all that without breaking stride, but it all just baffled him, because as close as they had become, she had never touched him before. He looked down at her just in time to see her turn her smiling face up at him.

"Little - My Lady, I'm not sure this is proper." He tried to tell her, and he saw her smile falter for a second before she turned to look forward.

"I didn't realize you to cared so much about propriety, Sandor. I mean, Mr. Clegane." She replied, still facing forward, but he noticed her tone had hardened a bit.

He knew he'd managed to upset her, or quite possibly offended her. That didn't sit well with him; especially not when she called him by his last name again. She was the only one that called him Sandor for so long, that he preferred it from her, rather than his last name. He wasn't sure how to fix it, because he still believed he was doing the right thing by trying to draw the boundary lines between them. He remained silent as they walked together, all the while thinking of how to explain himself without revealing his deeply hidden feelings for her. By the time they walked outside of the gate and were alone, he decided to ask her out right.

"Little Bird, have I offended or upset you?" He asked as he tugged her to a stop once they were alone.

She turned to him with a small smile, which really confused him until he realized he slipped in what he called her.

"Why do you think that?" She asked curiously, but still smiling at him in a way he'd never understand.

"Hells, I don't think it - I know, Little Bird!" He almost yelled exasperatedly looking towards the sky, and threw both his arms up in frustration. "But it's all I can think to do – reset the boundaries, especially knowing you're to be courted. You shouldn't get upset at me for trying to do the right thing! Clearly, I've fucked it up anyway!"

When he realized what he done and said, he turned to her, ready to apologize. He should have known his Little Bird would not react as he expected, but she never failed to surprise him. He thought he'd find an appalled look upon her face over his rant, perhaps even fear over his outburst. Instead, he found an almost pinkish hue on her face, with her hands tightly pressed against her mouth as if to prevent any sound from escaping. That alarmed him for a moment, but before he could ask or do anything, she burst.

The sound wasn't what he thought it would be either. Instead of hurling screams at him for his behavior, Sansa Stark had burst into shrieks of laughter; the likes of which he'd never seen or heard from her. He stared, dumbfounded. When she caught the incredulous look on his face, that seems to make her start anew. If it were anyone else, in any other place, he'd have been offended. But, it was her … Lady Sansa, his Little Bird. She was surely laughing at him, but more freely than he'd ever seen her. He counted himself lucky to witness to it. Sansa Stark was a truly beautiful woman, but in those moments, she was glorious. And so, he found himself smiling too, memorized by her, even as her laughter finally calmed.

"That was most unbecoming of a Lady, Little Bird." He commented, mischief clear in his tone.

"I'd apologize, but I haven't felt that way - that free - in years." She responded with a smile, as she wiped a wayward laughter tear from under her eye.

"Can I ask what brought it on… and your icy behavior from before? I didn't mean to explode that way, but I truly feel I'll never understand women, Little Bird, especially proper Ladies. I would have thought you'd be pleased I was finally showing you the respect you deserve." He asked her, still curious but not losing the humor of the moment.

"Fuck propriety, Sandor." She told him boldly, making his eyes widen and his breath to catch.

She noticed his reaction to her words, then smirked. "It's silly, really." She told him, softly and when his look soured, she decided to come clean as she walked then towards the Godswood with him batching up to her.

"Sandor, I've known you since I was girl. Well, I didn't really know you then, so I suppose it's best to say that I met The Hound when I was just a girl. The years I spent in Kings Landing, well, you know more than anyone the Hell I lived there. I was just a girl, a foolish one at that, but I was surrounded by people who would see me hurt, lie and use me, and torment me in countless ways. Yet, even through all that, you were the only one that was not only brutally honest, but showed me any kindness at all … in your own way of course." She told him, but the feelings her account of things was making him feel worse.

"Kindness? You thought I showed you kindness? Little Bird, I was not a kind man." He growled.

"Oh, don't get me wrong. There were no highlights during my time in Kings Landing, just bad days between the worse days. But, I can't tell you how many nights I lay awake at night after you left, regretting not having gone with you when you offered, Sandor. Countless, I can assure you. And that was just one of the times you tried to do right by me - the last time, but not the first. You see, as I thought back on that night, I recalled other instances that I had overlooked throughout my stay there. Like I said, I was a foolish girl back then."

"I dreamed of handsome kings and honorable knights… back before I left Winterfell. I hadn't even made it to Kings Landing when I was being shown lessons I couldn't yet understand fully. Oh, but learn I eventually did, in all the hardest of ways. I'll never forgive myself for having judged you based on your outward appearance back then. Regardless of The Hound's reputation, Sandor, you were the only soul in that city that did anything at all right by me. I'll list all the times if I must remind you, but the point is … there was a lesson I figured out too late, I'm afraid. If I'd been a better judge in character from the start, I might have avoided the whole thing, but I would surely have left with you that night."

"I wouldn't have known exactly what to do with you, Little Bird. We would have been hunted, probably killed too. I understood your reasons in then end … You did the right thing." He responded honestly believing his words.

"No, Sandor, I didn't." Sansa stopped just before one of the weirwood trees, and Sandor looked around realizing they were on their own, but his Little Bird kept speaking.

"I'm not saying that because of everything else that happened to me after you were gone, but because I know I should have trusted you and appreciated you more, without judgements. Sandor Clegane, you stopped me from becoming a kingslayer and ending my life. You never beat me when others did. You lied to your king and interceded on my behalf without ever having to do so. You rescued me from rapists amidst a riot, even against your king's orders. You were always honest with me and I owed you mu trust as well as my gratitude."

"Sandor, you used your cloak to protect my modesty in front of that same king that had me stripped and beaten before his entire court while no one else moved an inch… And the night you offered to rescue me from my tormentors, you vowed to protect me against anyone who'd do me harm. If any of the fabled stories I used to cling to as a child were right, there could only be one reason a man would do such things, and that is Love, Sandor. Do you deny any of the things I've said?" She asked him, and hid throat felt tight because she right by _all_ accounts.

"I … No, I don't deny any of it, Little Bird." Sandor admitted, his heart beating strongly and fast in his chest.

"And would you repeat those vows to me … To protect me from any who wish me harm? Would you profess your love for me, Sandor - here, before the weirwood, before the old gods?" She said determined, with a beaming smile and her eyes watering just enough for him to notice.

"Sansa …" Her name escaped his mouth in a barely audible whisper, but she heard it and her eyes fell closed as she smiled.

"I love when you call me Little Bird, but hearing you call me by my name feels right too." She smiled at him, before continuing. "Sandor, you must know our friendship means the world to me, but you've been fooling yourself if you haven't noticed how my feelings for you have evolved, grown and deepened. I love you, Sandor Clegane, and I'd have you as my Lord Husband … here, now, before the old gods. Do you accept?" She told him eagerly, not at all worried, for she knew in her heart that he reciprocated her feelings.

"Hells and the Seven take me, yes I absolutely accept, Sansa. I didn't even believe I was capable of love anymore, but you're my undoing in every way. I do love you, Little Bird and I can think of nothing I want more than to make you my wife." He told her, speaking more eloquently than she'd ever heard from him.

"I, Sansa Stark of Winterfell, vow to tie my life to yours as your Lady Wife. I will fill you and our home with love and children, standing by you from now, until my last day. I make these vows to you, Sandor Clegane of House Clegane, before the old gods." She spoke sweetly, every word cementing her in his heart more than she already was.

And I, Sandor Clegane of House Clegane, vow to time my life to yours as your husband. I will love, cherish and protect you and the family we create, above all else, from now and until my last day. I make these vows you, Sansa Stark, before the old gods." Sandor said his vows, making Sansa all but leap into his arms when he finished.

She hugged him tightly, just as he did to her, neither of them ready to release the other yet. Then, she remembered something she'd only ever dreamt of. She leaned out of their hug enough to look him in the eyes, she brought both of her hands to his cheeks, then leaned in to place a sweet and delicate kiss upon his lips. It was something not even Sandor had fantasized he'd ever feel. When she pulled away to look in his eyes, while still caressing both his cheeks, they smiled at each other. Then, he leaned back in to deepen the kiss, and it was more than she'd ever dreamt of… it was real!

They sat for a while beneath the weirwood for some time, Sandor with his back against the tree and Sansa upon his lap. They kissed and laughed and enjoyed each other's company. Neither was ready to face the wrath that probably awaited them back in Winterfell when the Wolf King, the little She-wolf, and Boy wolf learned of their marriage. Sandor asked her if she felt cheated, by lack of festivities while her younger brother was getting one. To his surprise, she told him no. She told him she was more looking forward to consummating the marriage with her only love, and giving him wolf-pups. When the shock wore off, he belted a laugh and admitted he was looking forward to that too.

"Thank you, Father … for keeping your word. You've found me a worthy man, who is brave, gentle and strong. Give Mother my love … I love you both... watch over us." Sandor overheard Sansa whisper to the weirwood tree as they got up to leave, and he watched her press a kiss to her fingers, and then her fingers to the tree.

What nether of them had realized was that Bran had already seen the events happening, and arranged for a celebratory midday meal. Neither Sandor or Sansa knew that the entire household was, well aware, of their feelings for one another. Jon and Arya, and Madeline had even taken to placing bets on when the two would become official. In fact, it was Bran that urged Jon to advise Sansa and Sandor about bringing Lords to court Sansa, because he knew that would speed things along. Madeline had even prepared a master suite for them to share, unbeknownst to Sansa or Sandor. So, surprised they were, to be warmly received into Winterfell that afternoon as Lord and Lady Clegane.

Not only had Sandor inherited Clegane Keep in the south, but Jon had also granted Sandor a seat on his council, and gifted them a Keep of their very own about a day's ride from Winterfell. None of the Starks were eager to be separated for any prolonged periods of time, but they knew Winterfell would also always be home to them both.

And so, not even after a year's passing, Sansa welcomed the couple's first son. Arya had taken to spending months at a time at their home, between her travels. She and Sandor were close, just as she and Sansa had strengthened their sisterly bond. Eventually, the couple welcomed a daughter, two more sons, and even yet another daughter. Arya loved to tease Sandor that it would be up to her to teach them the ways of the sword, because he'd gotten too old. Then, he would taunt her about how dancing swords isn't real sword fight, and so on they'd go… much to the entertainment of Sansa and the children.

 **The End!**

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 **A/N:**

This story came to mind and was inspired by the song If It Kills Me, by Jason Mraz. I have removed the lyrics from the story, in order to be in compliance with FanFiction regulations, after they were pointed out to me.


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